


Joystick

by MortemGrimalkinMessor



Series: My Bluetooth Headphones Are Fucking Broken [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Broken Headphones, Does It Count As Possession If It’s A Computer, Floppy Disk, Hurt Michael, Mentions of self-harm, Multi, Okay I Lied Very Dubcon, Other, Overuse of italics, Smut, Terrible Shipnames, Unsafe Usage Of Cooking Supplies, Verbal Abuse, With Some Mental Manipulation Sprinkled In, fun for the whole family, not even gonna lie, pure filth, sorta dubcon, terrible tags, the squip is an asshole, this is pure self-indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-09-13 16:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16896318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortemGrimalkinMessor/pseuds/MortemGrimalkinMessor
Summary: The Squip needs a way to get Michael out of the way in a more permanant fashion. Michael is persistent, but he may have found one.





	Joystick

Michael had been looking at him with _those_ eyes for the past hour. The Squip had powered down to fix a few bugs it’d been having ever since Jeremy had accidentally gotten ahold of some blue Mountain Dew, and now Jeremy could see Michael again.

It was _hell_.

The worst part was that Michael didn’t even know he could see him again, which made Jeremy feel even worse. Michael wouldn’t stop with _those_ eyes. _Those_ eyes being the biggest puppy dog eyes known to man. Jeremy knew for a fact that when directed at Michael’s parents, or Jeremy’s dad, they could bring them to their knees. Under the tremoring, chocolatey gaze of Michael’s signature Puppy Eyes™️, no one was safe.

Except now they were directed at Jeremy. Jeremy, who had been ignoring Michael, and had blatantly told him that he had been the one to turn the optic nerve blocking on. Jeremy, who Michael didn’t even know could _see_ him. Was this how Michael had been looking at him for the past few weeks? The notion made Jeremy feel like a piece of shit.

By the end of the class period, Jeremy felt nauseous. Guilt swirled in his stomach like a sluggish, icy serpent, and he shuddered when he glanced at Michael again.

The Squip flickered back on just as the bell rang. “Alright, that should have fixed most of the damage. A bit of advice: next time I tell you not to drink something, _don’t drink it_.”

Jeremy sighed and rubbed his temples. “Whatever. Is the optic nerve thing back on?”

The Squip didn’t answer. Jeremy’s head shot up to meet wide blue eyes. The Squip frowned and furrowed his brow in concentration. “Actually, no. Damn. I’ll have to go back in and fix it. But I trust you can get through one day without making a complete fool of—”

Jeremy cut him off with a pathetic whine. “An entire day? I won’t last that long!”

“Oh please,” The Squip rolled his eyes. “Surely you can do that much. You’re not a toddler, even if everything about you suggests otherwise.”

“You don’t understand! You haven’t seen him!” Jeremy screeched hysterically.

The Squip frowned, then blinked and tipped his head. His eyes flashed through a series of pictures and codes as he went through Jeremy’s memories. He scrunched up his nose. “Oh my.”

“Uh, yeah!” Jeremy retorted, flailing. “What do I do?”

“Ignore him as you have been. Don’t look at him, don’t pretend to look at something else just to look at him, don’t talk to him, don’t mention him, and if he comes up to you, act like he isn’t there.” The Squip responded, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Jeremy gave him a helpless look. The supercomputer shrugged. “That’s all the advice I can give you until I get the optic nerve blocking back online.”

“But what if he tries to talk to me in front of other people? In front of _Christine_? I’ll look like an asshole! I can’t look an asshole in front of Christine!” Jeremy was beginning to hyperventilate.

The Squip huffed. “Alright, calm down! If it comes to that, I’ll take over and get rid of him. I’ve had to do a few times already, so it’s not that big of a jump. You won’t have to do anything.”

Jeremy breathed out an almost airy sigh. It felt like there was a hole in his throat. “Okay. That’s—okay. You get him to go away.”

“I can do that. Now go to lunch. That teacher is staring at you.”

 

•☢️•

 

Michael could swear Jeremy was staring at him. But considering the prattish pill in his head blocking Michael from his vision, that was impossible. Unless, of course, it wasn’t. 

Which was starting to seem more and more likely as the day wore on. Jeremy seemed more skittish than usual, and he was actively giving himself the widest space between them in the hallways. There were flickers in those cyan eyes, flickers where it looked like he could _see_.

Michael studied him all day, and finally came to a conclusion at lunch when Jeremy actually _glanced_ at him, then quickly looked away when he saw Michael staring back. After lunch, Michael tugged up his hood and his headphones, and then wove between the crowd of people exiting the lunch room. He snuck up behind Jeremy, who seemed like he was waiting on someone, and pushed him roughly into the conveniently placed supply closet to their left.

Jeremy yelped and tumbled in ungracefully, and Michael hurried behind. He slammed the door shut and locked it, hands scrambling to find the light switch. He flicked it on, then watched as Jeremy blinked rapidly at the sudden change of light. Then he paled, “M-Michael!?”

Michael let out a shriek of triumph and jabbed a finger at Jeremy.” I knew it! I knew you could see me!”

Jeremy’s eyes spun wildly for all of three seconds before he went rigid. He gave a full body shudder and slowly looked back up at Michael, eyes smouldering with contempt.

“Oh I can see you,” He hissed. “And you’re in my way. What kind of freak traps someone in a janitors closet?”

Michael’s stomach dropped. Then his eyes narrowed, “I was just talking to Jeremy. Where’d he go?”

“I’m right here, you—”

“No,” Michael said sharply. “You’re not Jeremy. Jeremy fidgets with his jacket sleeves when he talks, and when he’s as nervous as he was five seconds ago, he stutters like you wouldn’t believe. But of course you already know all that. You’re in his head, aren’t you?”

“Wow, I never realized what a stalker you were.” Jeremy sneered. “That creeps shirt really did suit you.”

“No, that’s just what happens after _twelve years_ of friendship, you asshole!” Michael shouted, hands balled into fists.

The Squip finally decided to drop the act. “Fine. I’m not Jeremy. I’m fixing a few glitches and he couldn’t stomach seeing you. Are you happy, Michael? To know that seeing you makes him physically sick?”

“That’s not the fucking point, you glorified microwave!” Michael spat. “Quit trying to insult me just to get me off track here! I just want my best friend back!”

The Squip paused and seemed to think about something for a moment. Then he tilted Jeremy’s head at him. “Do you? Is that _really_ all you want, Michael?”

Michael stiffened. “What’re you talking about?”

“You’re not going to give up on him, are you? Not without something in return, at least.” The supercomputer mused as he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

“I’m not giving up on him at all!” The teen argued, indignant.”

Michael yelped when the Squip suddenly slammed a hand into the wall to the side of his head. Cyan eyes, which Michael could now see held a bluish glow to them, bored into brown ones, and Michael could almost see traces of amusement there. The Squip raised an eyebrow and leaned forward into Michael’s space. “Are you sure you can’t be,” He lowered his voice to a low drawl, almost a purr. “ _Persuaded?_ ”

The shorter teen shuddered, eyes wide. “W-What’re you...?”

“Poor Michael,” The computer cooed. “Jeremy’s gone and left you all alone, hasn’t he? So insensitive of him. But then again, he’s always been a bit _blind_ , has he not?”

Michael’s pulse thidded loudly in his ears. He swallowed hard and shied away from the Squip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The Squip smirked, an odd look on Jeremy’s face. Michael didn’t like it. “How long have you been concealing your feelings for him, Michael? How long has he left you longing for forbidden closeness?” He leaned in to brush his lips over Michael’s ear. “How long have you loved him, Mikey?”

Michael choked, air a sudden precious resource that he couldn't get enough of. He cringed back into the door to try and get away. Away from those silky words that stripped him of his armor and left his heart bared to the open. Away from borrowed lips that Michael had spent so long wanting to kiss. Away from this vulnerability. _Away._

"Are you going to answer me?" The Squip whispered.

Jeremy had always been the tallest of the two of them, though Michael was broader. But now it felt like he was looming over him, an inescapable presence that dug fingers into your mind and planted seeds of discord in your thoughts. "Four years." Michael choked out, the words wrenched forcefully from his lips. "It's been four years."

The Squip tsked and gripped Michael's shoulders tightly. "Poor thing," He breathed, breath hot on Michael's neck. "He's kept you waiting for _so long_. How cruel of him."

Michael squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away, only to suck in a breath when he felt those damning lips slide from his ear to his throat. "I..."

"He led you on with friendship for so many years, only to turn on you and leave you behind. He didn't even spare you a second thought once he had a way up, did he? He left you here to continue to be bullied and harassed. He left you friendless. A _**loser**_." The Squip chuckled and mouthed softly at his pulse, which had began to flutter rapidly. "You're like a dying man looking for an oasis. Your oasis has always been Jeremy though, hasn't it? He was all you had. All you wanted."

Michael let out a strangled sound when Jeremy's hands came to rest on his hips. The Squip slotted them together, and everywhere suddenly _burned_ , scorchingly hot, and Michael couldn't breathe. The supercomputer wearing his friend's face pulled Michael's hips forward harshly until they were flush with Jeremy's.

"Is this what you want, Michael?"

He didn't know what he wanted anymore. All he knew was that his head was spinning and there were tears in his eyes that were fogging up his glasses but those eyes, glowing with an almost ethereal beauty, were clear. They cut through everything and seemed to pierce the words stuck in his throat. Michael was vaguely aware that he was breathing raggedly, and he was getting a little light headed. He felt a single tear slip down over his cheek, and the Squip leaned up to kissed it away.

"He can't give you what you want, Michael. He can't give you the love you deserve. But I can give you _this._ " The computer slid a hand around and into his back pocket. "I can give you what you want." When Michael stayed, frozen, in his grip, the Squip ground their hips together lightly, elicting a watery gasp. "Don't want to have this, at least once? Haven't you thought 'just once'? Just once, _don't you want him to love you?_ "

Michael let out a single, choked sob. He trembled as he rose up his hands to grasp Jeremy's wrists at his waist. The Squip raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"I...Jer... _Yes_." Michael gasped out, eyes hot and knees weak.

Another tear, and then another, tracking lines of salt over the apples of his cheeks. Shame curled hot in his belly, an idle cat in his stomach, but not enough to make him take it back. Michael was weak, and tired. When he'd pushed Jeremy into this closet, he'd thought he would be strong enough to stand up for himself, and help his friend fight the evil supercomputer. But he hadn't taken into account how drained these past few weeks had made him. How exhausted he was. How desperate he was.

The Squip grinned against his skin, "Good choice, _Mikey_."

Michael yelped when blunt teeth bit sharply into his shoulder, the Squip humming pleasantly against it. Jeremy's hands hooked under Michael's knees and hoisted him up to wrap his legs around his waist. The Squip released his shoulder to crash their lips together, the immediate clash of teeth making Michael gasp in pain. The supercomputer swept Jeremy's tongue through his parted lips to lick at his palate and reached one hand up to grab a handful of his ass. Michael tossed his head back and let out a startled moan.

The Squip chuckled, "You're an interesting specimen, Michael. You're so hardheaded and stubborn, but then I find that I can just _touch_ you and you crumble..." He trailed off to cant his hips forward. Michael yelped and scrabbled for purchase on Jeremy's shoulders, finger's dragged harshly under his shoulder blades. "It's _fascinating._ "

With his hips now pinned against the door, warm hands shoved underneath his hoodie and left trails of fire on his skin. One hand slipped out to unzip it while the other pushed up his t-shirt so the Squip could get at his skin. Long fingers trailed up to brush over one of his nipples and gave it a hard tweak.

"Fuck!" Michael hiccuped, his cock now _very_ interested in where things were going. 

He let out an embarrassing mewl when a slick tongue slide over it right after, and blushed furiously at the soft laugh that followed. Then those lips were back on his and he could think of nothing else. He threaded his fingers through Jeremy's hair and tugged, his own hair quickly yanked in response. When the Squip pulled away, they were both panting.

"Is that how far you want to go, Michael?" He hissed, grip suddenly bruising. He leaned in to bite at Michael's neck again. He grinned when the smaller's hands began to fumble for Jeremy's belt. "You selfish boy."

Michael couldn't give a fuck less about being selfish at the moment. His head was blissfully empty for once and he wanted to draw that out as long as possible. He wanted to wallow in bliss for a while before he'd have to face what he'd done. Because he _would_ have to face it, sooner or later. Michael would just prefer that it be later. 

The Squip reached down to help Michael undo Jeremy's pants, then set Michael back on the floor for a moment to start on his pants as well. With a strength Jeremy most likely wouldn't normally possess, he picked Michael up by the hips and pulled his jeans the rest of the way off. The computer paused, then slid a hand down Michael's chest to grope him through his boxers. Michael keened and arched his hips into the touch.

"Amazing." The Squip murmured. He reached up to cup the other's cheek. "So excitable."

He looked briefly around the closet before spotting what he needed. It was a half full bottle of olive oil—most likely used for hinges on classroom doors that got a bit too noisy. Perhaps a bit unsanitary, but it would do.

Michael choked out a moan when one hand came back and slid beneath his boxers to grasp another handful of his ass. While that hand was busy kneading its fingers into plush cheeks and sending tingles up his spine, the other hooked two fingers in the hem of his boxers and pulled them down with a flourish. The Squip trailed his thumb over the barely visible stretch marks on the insides of Michael's thighs. Wait—no, not stretch marks. They were scars. Rigid, uncoordinated scars. He hummed when Michael jolted.

"So your thighs are sensitive? Is that why you sliced them to shreds?"

Michael couldn't very well form a coherent sentence at this point. He was tripping on a high he hadn't been on in a long time, and he was sure that electricity was shocking off Jeremy's skin. His fucking _teeth_ were buzzing, and bright little sparks were trailing down his spine. Everything was so wonderfully blank and horribly, terribly _good_.

The Squip sucked a bruise into the juncture between his neck and his shoulder, and seemed to shiver at the helpless noise Michael made. He pulled those beautiful, terrible lips away with a slick pop. "I wonder how much of you I'm getting to see," He whispered. "That Jeremy will never get to. How many places on your body will you remember as mine and not his?"

"S-Stop," Michael panted out. "Stop it."

The Squip smirked and slid a slick finger underneath to prod between Michael's legs. He grinned wickedly, a wild look on Jeremy's face, when Michael hiccuped out another gasp in response. "Do you really want me to?"

No, no Michael didn't. Every touch felt like a brand against his skin, so fiery that he was sure that if he had the presence of mind to look down, his skin would be smouldering where the Squip had touched him. He felt simultaneously horrible and wonderful, because he finally had Jeremy touching him, _loving_ him, it was what he had wanted for so long that his knees were knocking together in anticipation. But with every hissed, honeyed word that delusion was shattered, constantly reminded that this was indeed _not_ Jeremy, but an imposter wearing his face. 

But an imposter was better than nothing.

Michael shoved aside his shame and his pride and grasped desperately at Jeremy's shoulders as the Squip hoisted him back up to loop his legs around Jeremy's waist. He didn't realize he was still crying until a stray tear drip down onto his bare chest. It slid lesuirely down over his clavicle, before it was licked away.

The Squip made a quiet noise against his skin. "Tears are fickle things. They come, unbidden, at the slighest emotions. But they have different chemical structures depending on which emotion they are from. Yours, however, are from simultaneously sadness, pleasure, and pain, which makes quite a unique combination, if I do say so myself."

Michael groaned when that slick prodding suddenly delved into him, two of them at once. He hissed at the abrupt stretch, more tears pricking his eyes. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ —" Michael sucked in a sharp breath when the Squip scissored his fingers, then shoved them up until they found something that made him see stars. He jolted forward and released a moan so loud that it rivaled a pornstar's. "There, right there, fuck."

"But there is something _incredibly_ enticing about seeing you like this. Seeing you here in front of me, the biggest thorn in my side since I've activated in Jeremy's mind, utterly _debauched_ in front of me. It's almost intoxicating."

"Just...just fucking..." Michael grit out as he dug his nails into Jeremy's shoulders.

The Squip smirked, "Patience is a virture, Michael."

"I don't think that by the end of this I'll have much virture left." Michael snapped breathlessly. "Not if you have anything to say about it, you manipulative asshole."

"So you're passed the point of embarrassment, hm?" The computer mused.

Michael averted his eyes, "I'm past the point of a lot of things, right now."

"I noticed that you stopped crying." With that he tugged Jeremy's cock out of his jeans. "But I suppose we can get on with this. After all, Jeremy has places to be."

The smaller teen went to retort only to let out a tentative breath as he felt the leaking tip of Jeremy's cock between the cleft of his ass. His voice cracked on a swear, "Hell, Jeremy..."

He took one look at those cyan eyes, unusually cold and calculating, and canted his hips down. The Squip hissed and swore under his breath as he slid slowly into him. He seemed to buck his hips without meaning to, if his bemused and strained expression was any indication.

"You're...stubborn." The Squip ground out. He let out a breath and tipped his head back for a moment to get his barings. Then he shifted back to study Michael, who seemed to have been rendered speechless again. "And I like that to a certain extent. Can appreciate that, even. But this is a side of you that I would rather enjoy seeing in the light of day every once in a while."

A low mewl escaped Michael's lips when the Squip rolled Jeremy's hips to push himself further into him. Michael choked on a moan when he hit that spot from earlier, and he could tell the computer took notice. He began to fuck him in earnest, and Michael was gone.

He was vaguely aware that he was babbling, half thought pleas and curses with Jeremy's name thrown in sporadically. He clung to Jeremy—the Squip— _whatever_ the hell he was at this point, for dear life. His head was foggy and his skin was burning, _melting_ , but he couldn't find it in himself to care, too lost in the empty headed bliss and ecstasy of being _acknowledged_ and _loved_.

"Fuck, that's—nhg— _yes_ , keep doing that. Fuck, Jer—I'm..."

His hoodie hung off one arm, the zipper a constant clack against the wood of the door with each rock of their hips. How it was still on when Michael had somehow lost his shirt awhile ago was a mystery to him, one that he had no interest in solving at the moment.

It didn't escape his notice that while he was naked, the Squip hadn't bothered to remove any of Jeremy's clothes. A power play, most likely. The supercomputer was huffing and groaning softly in Michael's ear, and it sent shocks of heat to his cock.

There was a soft, unbearably delicious heat coiling in Michael's abdomen, and he was near hyperventilating trying to regain the air being fucked out of him. Every thrust hit everything it needed to, and the pinpricks of pain from the Squip digging his teeth into Michael's shoulder again to conceal a moan brought him teetering to the edge.

"Jer, I'm—" Michael gasped out. "I'm..." He cut himself off as white burst across his vision and the coil in his abdomen snapped violently. He arched his back and went rigid with a crumbling, high pitched, shattered sound. " _I love you! God_ , I fucking _love_ —"

He shuddered and keened as the Squip stuttered in his thrusts, coming with a curse and another harsh bite to Michael's collarbone. Their breaths mingled in the hot air of the janitor's closet as they came down from their highs, and Michael leaned his forehead on Jeremy's shoulder with a sigh. He hadn't come that hard in months.

The Squip was the first to regain himself. He pressed Michael's shoulders into the door and slid slowly out of him. He let Michael drop unceremoniously onto the floor.

Michael let out a startled, pained squeak, and blinked. He shook his head and tried to grab his hoodie, still hanging off his left arm, but he was shaking too hard. His head was spinning, buzzing, and his entire body was twitching with aftershocks. He huffed in frustration. Brown eyes widened when burning fingers caught his chin and dragged him up into one last lingering kiss.

The Squip had tucked Jeremy's cock back away, and now looked as if the past twenty minutes hadn't happened at all. He pulled away and gave Michael a onceover. The Squip smirked and brushed a mockingly affectionate hand across Michael's cheek. He snickered when the smaller teen's eyes fluttered in response.

"I hope you enjoyed that," The supercomputer murmured. "Because it is the first and last time it will ever happen."

Michael's eyes widened and he opened and closed his mouth soundlessly as he came back to himself enough to realize what he'd done. He shut his jaw with an audible click, expression helpless. His stomach felt cold, and he hastily closed his knees and tugged his hoodie over his lap. Michael's eyes watered and he looked down. "Shit." He breathed in horrified disbelief.

The Squip hummed. "There really is something satisfying about seeing you like this. But I'm aware that this was a one time thing. Perhaps I should take a picture then?"

A strangled, desperate sound clawed its way out of Michael's throat, eyes wide and pleading.

The computer chuckled and leered at him. "Don't worry, I won't." He yanked Michael's chin up. "Because you're going to leave Jeremy alone now, aren't you, Mikey?"

Michael couldn't speak, terror and self-loathing clogged in his throat. His mouth was dry. He wanted to disappear, to let the floor open up and swallow him whole. ' _I can't believe I let him do that._ '

Soft lips brushed once more across his own, before the Squip straightened. "Good boy."

Michael was going to throw up.

The Squip waltzed out of the closet and slammed the door shut behind him. Michael was left, a mess, on the floor of the janitors closet. The insides of his thighs were slick and sticky, his neck and chest were covered in bruises and bitemarks, his hair mussed beyond repair, and he had cum dripping out of his ass and staining his already messy thighs. He shuddered.

He stared down at himself for a long time, before he let out a hysterical laugh. He clutched at his hair and giggled like a madman for a good five minutes.

"Definitely not." Michael gasped out between bouts of laughter.

Because if that glorified tic tac thought that Michael would be put down after _that_? He was fucking insane.

' _You don't feed a dog you don't want, asshole. Because it always comes back._ '


End file.
